


Ruin

by JustMeJustMeJustMe



Category: Holby City
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-17 12:57:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14189436
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustMeJustMeJustMe/pseuds/JustMeJustMeJustMe
Summary: Jac / Fletch post No Matter Where You Go. There You AreSome plot, some angst, some smut but relatively tame!





	1. Chapter 1

**Ruin**

He’s inside her. Thrusting into her in a steady rhythm. His mouth is on hers. One of his hands is gripping her hip hard keeping her at just the right angle. She thinks she might find red marks there after. Her arms are wrapped around him and her legs are hooked over his hips. She forces her hips upward to meet his and the sensation causes her to pull her mouth from his and a low moan escapes her lips. He buries his face in her neck and she feels him trail hot wet kisses there.

The only noise filling her bedroom is her gasping breaths and his heavy breathing.

She’s close.

She feels his rhythm change and become slightly more frantic. The new pace pushes her closer to the edge and she knows she’s going to make it to the finish line before him. Just a few more thrusts and she’s falling over the edge.

She shatters into a million pieces all around him. All thoughts flee her mind and she focuses solely on the feeling of pleasure coursing through her. She grips on to him tighter and digs her heels into the back of his legs.

She can feel he is close now too, her orgasm has obviously spurred him on. His thrust are erratic, fast and hard. She knows it’s over when she feels his weight collapse into her and his movements slow. He rolls off of her just a few seconds later and she’s overwhelmed by the feeling of loss.

She rolls into his side. Knows he is going to get up and leave in just a few minutes. She wants to enjoy the few short minutes of closeness she gets from him now. She strokes his chest wants to ask him to stay but doesn’t, she knows he won’t. She focuses on his face and her eyes are drawn to his lips and she wonders what it’d be like to kiss him without the urgency. She wants to kiss him but doesn’t want to be the one to cross the lines they’d silently agreed. There’s no kissing after. She had his body now but his mind had abandoned her.

It’s funny, she thinks she’d trade everything that had happened in the last three weeks for just one of those purely intimate moments they’d previously shared. She hates herself a bit for drawing him in this way. She knows this isn’t what he would have wanted, but he is here anyway finding comfort in her body rather than from the closeness they’d shared only a few short weeks ago.

It had all started just a day after she’d left. He’d shown up on her doorstep without forewarning. She had opened the door and saw anger flash in his eyes.

He’d crossed the threshold quickly, shoved her into the wall and kissed her hard. It was angry, rough and urgent. His hand had found its way inside her trousers, and past her underwear quickly and she knew in that moment he was about to discover just how much she wanted him. She’d gasped into his mouth when he touched her, moaned when two of his fingers pushed inside her and gripped the front of his shirt when she’d finally pulsed around his fingers just a few short minutes after he’d started pushing them in and out of her in an agonisingly urgent rhythm.

He’d wordlessly given her exactly what she wanted, what she needed. She wanted more.

She had reached for his belt but he’d stopped her. Pushed her hands away. She could see the realisation of what had just happened dawn on his face. He withdrew his fingers from her quickly, dragged his other hand out from under her top, pulled her into him and held her tightly for a fraction of a second before letting her go and walking out the door. She’d wanted to stop him but hadn’t been able to get her brain in gear fast enough.

She’d slid down the wall as soon as the door had closed. Still breathing heavy and physically stunned. She knows she pushed him to this. She’d ran away, refused to speak, refused to acknowledge her feelings for him. All that was left was the tension and it had finally boiled over.

Two days later he was at the door again.

She’d grabbed him by the hand and pulled him inside. She had no intention of letting him leave this time without getting exactly what she wanted from him. She’d dragged him to the living room and kissed him hard, stroked him with one hand through the front of his trousers. Immediately started tugging at the buttons of his shirt with her other hand. When he’d tried to touch her she’d batted his hands away. She hadn’t wanted to risk him distracting her again. Freed from his shirt, she’d started working on his belt, and trousers. She’d dragged them down to his knees quickly and pushed him back on to the sofa. She’d rushed to remove her own trousers and underwear before straddling him and sinking down on to him without hesitation. He’d looked surprised. She wasn’t really quite ready but she didn’t care, she’d had to give herself a few seconds to adjust though, before moving. She had grabbed his hand and put it on her breast silently giving him permission to start touching her again now she was certain he wouldn’t try to leave. He’d removed her top and bra seconds later and further frantic kissing had followed soon after.

They’d continued this way for the last few weeks. Every few days he’d be wordlessly at her door. They’d barely said a word to each other at all bar the occasional word of encouragement or instruction. She can feel the resentment building in both of them and she’s worried how things are going to work when she has to return to Holby in a weeks time. She’d really thought this arrangement if you could call it that, would have suited her perfectly fine, but it didn’t. She misses their close friendship, the banter and companionship. He was here, but not really. She feels like she ruined him.

He hadn’t tried to talk to her once, not about the pain or her feelings. She figures he is giving her what he thinks she wants. She can still feel his anger too, it’s practically burning a hole right through her every time she sees him. She’ll soon be left with another gaping wound that will never heal. This is hurting them both, but she doesn’t want to stop, doesn’t know how to tell him she wants more.

“I should go.” He tells her softly.

It’s the same every time. He waits the obligatory five minutes before announcing his intention to leave. She’s still stroking his chest and she can feel one of his hands trailing feather light touches up her spine. It’s getting harder and harder to let him go. She feels tears prickle in her eyes. As satisfying as having him in her bed has been she wishes they could rewind a few weeks to undo the damage. She pushes her body further into him hoping he’ll finally understand this time that she wants to keep him here.

“Stay.” She asks him softly.

She closes her eyes, knows the answer will be no, but hopes it’s not anyway.

“I really shouldn’t.” He states not a hint of hesitation in his voice.

She feels him move and she rolls back off him. It takes him just a few minutes to pick up all his clothes from the floor, get dressed and leave the room.

She sighs.

She knows they can’t keep doing this.

 

 


	2. Ruin 2

  
She didn’t answer the door the next time he’d turned up. She’d purposely turned out all the lights, pretending to not be home. She’d anticipated his arrival, had predicted the pattern, she had known he would come. She’d heard the bell ring twice and had to ignore the tremor of desire that had surged through her at his arrival. Her body already anticipating the release he could provide. She still wanted it, him, but she’d firmly decided this needed to end to save them both.

Her duvet covers still smelled like him and she’d made a mental note to change them in the morning to erase any sign he’d ever been in her bed.

He’d tried once more towards the end of the week but had given up faster this time. He’d only rang the bell once and a few minutes later she’d heard the roar of a car engine, telling her he’d left already. She’d been partly relieved and partly disappointed he’d given her up so easily.

The thought of returning to work on Monday had filled her with dread.

She need not have worried. They’d settled quickly into a new dynamic based on necessity rather than need or want. She avoided him, he avoided her but they were civil should their paths cross. She’d seen him at least twice a day but they’d never been alone. She’d felt a bit like a drug addict in withdrawal. Every glimpse of him had sent a shot of want straight down to the core of her body. She’d had to keep reminding herself that she didn’t need him, that it was just a physical reaction, that eventually it would pass. She had been physically fighting her bodies desire to seek him out, touch him and kiss him and she’d wondered if he had been struggling with it as much as she had been.

By the end of the week things had gotten just a touch easier. Their shared resentment had slowly ebbed away a bit. There was still anger on both sides but it was more of a background noise now, still dangerous but not an immediate threat.

Early the following week one of their frequent flyers Mrs Latham, had passed away during surgery. She knew the risks before the operation but had agreed to undertake surgery in a last ditch attempt to save her life. It had been a long shot at best. They’d managed to keep her alive and moderately well for far longer than anyone had ever anticipated but her death had still touched a nerve. Petrenko had felt it, Fletch had felt it and most of the nurses too. The entire ward had known her well. Her loss a reminder to them all of the inevitable. None of them had truly expected her to die, herself included. Mrs Latham had been in and out of the hospital so regularly it was almost a tradition. She’d always survived against the odds, till now.

She’d gone home, drank two glasses of wine to drown her sorrows.

Her doorbell had rang. She’d known exactly who it was without even checking. She’s certain it had been Mrs Latham’s death that had brought him here again, seeking comfort, and a reminder that they were both still alive. She hadn’t felt like she had the strength to resist the urge to open the door. The wine no doubt playing a part in weakening her resolve. She feels hate for the weakness she feels for him. Wishes she’d had the strength or desire to ignore him completely. She knows continuing to open the door could destroy them both.

She’d opened the door anyway, fully expecting and anticipating finding anger once again on the other side. Instead she’d found affection or something close to it. He’d kissed her softly. Stroked her arms. His touch no longer angry or urgent and he’d caressed her skin like he was afraid she’d fall to pieces in his hands. He’d taken her hand, led her upstairs to her bedroom, undressed her slowly and kissed every piece of skin he’d exposed as he went. It had felt different and a warm rush had settled over her entire body. She’d followed his lead, undressed him slowly and kissed every bit of skin she’d come across. His eyes had kept locking on to hers and his kisses were fraught with emotions. She hadn’t really known what to make of it.

He’d pushed her back on to the bed and his mouth had moved between her legs. He’d stayed there kissing her until she’d heard his name leave her own mouth as she’d orgasmed. She’d felt him smile against her, obviously pleased with himself for eliciting his name from her lips. He’d crawled up her then trailing kisses until he’d settled himself between her legs. Her body instantly remembering him. She knew how to move with him to create just the right amount of pressure, how to touch him to urge him towards the edge and it wasn’t long until he was once again collapsing on top of her. He’d rolled off of her just a few seconds later and she’d turned in to him automatically seeking those last few minutes of closeness.

She feels like she’s got déjà vu. The overwhelming urge to ask him to stay is slowly building inside her and she doesn’t think she’s going to be able to contain it for long. She doesn’t think she’ll be able to cope if she asks and he leaves anyway. She’s suddenly angry and she thinks he may have ruined her too.

“Get out.” She tells him harshly. She’s trying to bury her emotions and she knows she can’t do that with him here as a reminder, even if she knows he would have only stayed for a few minutes anyway.

Now she has to change her sheets again and start the withdrawal process from scratch.

She knows she can’t keep doing this.

 


	3. Ruin 3

The next day he’d looked tired and worn out. She knew she hadn’t been fairing much better. He’d been driving her to distraction. She was frayed around the edges and snippets of her internal anger had been working their way out of her, directed at whoever happened to be closest to her at the time. So far she’d snapped at three nurses and Petrenko more than once. She’d seen him admonish a junior trainee nurse too that very same morning, it wasn’t like him though, and had earned him more than a few raised eyebrows from other members of staff.

She knew that one of them was going to break. She didn’t know which, but ultimately it wouldn’t matter. Once it happened though, she knew that everything would come crashing down around them in a fireball of red hot fury. She knows when it does, this will end for good. She’s looking forward to it and dreading it in equal measures. She knows at least the end will free them both.

If it doesn’t happen soon though, she may have to move.

The frequency of his visits had been increasing ever since and he’d been at her door practically every night over the last week. She hates him a bit for continuing to come, hates herself for letting him in. She wonders if he feels the same. Wonders if he hates her a little bit too, she’s almost certain he does.

Her doorbell had rang earlier tonight exactly as she had expected and she had gotten up without a second thought to let him in.

“We need to stop.” She’d told him as firmly as she could muster as she’d opened the door.

“I know.” He’d replied.

She already knew she was going to give him whatever he wanted though, because she wanted it too.

“Come on.” He’d tugged on her hand and pulled her up the stairs.

She doesn’t know why she’d even bothered to put up any resistance at all. She knows it had been futile.

He’d pulled her into the bedroom but hadn’t tried to kiss her, hadn’t tried to undress her, instead he had pushed her onto the bed still fully clothed, then got in next to her. He’d wrapped his arm around her and pulled her closer into him. She’d half-heartedly tried to shrug him off slightly annoyed by the intimate gesture. When he’d snuggled in closer and placed a gentle kiss on her neck, she’d made a move to sit up, had wanted to escape the sudden closeness he was inflicting on her after weeks of being deprived of it, after weeks of craving it. It had felt slightly alien as she had become accustomed to his more recent coldness.

“Stop.” He’d whispers softly while gripping her waist tighter, preventing her from moving any further.

He’d sat up, pulled her towards him and kissed her lips gently. Pushed on her shoulder just as softly to encourage her to lay back down. She did. He’d wrapped his arm back around her waist.

“I’m tired.” He had told her while burying his face against her shoulder.

She’d nodded understandingly then. She was tired too.

He’d seemed to have been seeking a different kind of comfort. She had figured he was trying to pull them back slightly from the inevitable break which was looming just on the horizon, not fully but just enough to keep them going for a little while longer. Delaying the foregone conclusion just a touch.

She’d woken up in the middle of the night. He was still there next to her. His hand still tightly gripping her waist. She’d thought he was asleep, was surprised when she’d felt his hands move to her hips and tug on them gently encouraging her to move on top of him. He had then moved one hand to her cheek and used it to pull her towards him for a soft slow kiss. Her hips had moved into him of their volition matching the movements of their kiss. From that point onwards, it had appeared to her as if time had slowed down. Every move was slow, every touch, every kiss, the way his hands had glided over her breasts when he’d finally managed to free her from her clothes. When it was over he’d kept her on top of him by gripping her hips tightly. She hadn’t been able to tear her eyes away from his and they’d ended up staying that way for quite a few minutes just gazing at one another, as if it was the first time they’d seen each other in months.

She’s awake again a few hours later. He must have fallen back to sleep too. She was about to wake him to tell him to leave when his voice pierced the silence. She’d obviously disturbed him with her movements.

“Don’t.” His voice is a plea and is cracked with hint of desperation.

She stills. Moves her hand back to his chest and places her head back on his shoulder. She wants to comfort him but doesn’t know how to ease the pain she’d heard in his voice.

He was gone by the time she woke up in the morning. 

She knows he can’t keep doing this.


	4. Ruin 4

He hadn’t been back since and the withdrawal had been way worse this time around as she thinks she now knew what it could feel like to be loved by him.

She thinks she wants it, maybe even needs it.

Her heart had been regularly having palpitations. She had been considering the possibility that there was something seriously wrong with it. She’d even considered getting Petrenko to give her the once over. She’d finally dismissed that idea when a pattern emerged. She was only having them when he was within her vicinity or when she was alone and had allowed her thoughts to drift to him.

By the end of the week she was practically frantic. Her body was physically aching for him, almost painfully. She knew it was selfish but she wanted to draw him back in. Didn’t want to accept that this was the end. She’d been expecting and anticipating an explosion, in keeping with anger they’d both been burying, not an anti-climax totally lacking even a minor pop, bang or fizz.

She had found him standing at the nurses station. The ward was dark, the night shift already underway.

“My office.” She’d told him firmly.

As soon as they had gotten inside she had shoved him back roughly against the door and kissed him hard before quickly dropping to her knees undoing his belt. If this was the end then she wanted to give him something to remember her by. He didn’t try to stop her.

He hadn’t touched her at all but she had felt a smug satisfaction wash over her anyway. When she was finished, she’d left him in her office stunned, his trousers still undone.

They’d never kissed or touched at work and she knew she just crossed one of those invisible lines, broken one of the rules. She didn’t care. She thinks she might like to break some more. Maybe it wasn’t quite over after all. She’d wondered if she could show him how she felt without uttering a single word.

A few days later she had overheard him tell Petrenko he’d packed the kids off to their grandparents for a night. He had plans with a Chinese takeaway and beer.

She’d gotten there early, watched from the car as his takeaway arrived. She’d got out then walked to his front door and rang the bell. He opened the door. His mouth had hung open and she’d just shrugged at him. She was almost brimming with confidence after their latest encounter and she’d known he wouldn’t be able turn her away. She’d crossed the threshold quickly, pressed almost her entire body into him, kissed his still parted lips, all the while ensuring her eyes had stayed locked on to his, almost studying his reaction. She’d pulled back a bit, trailed her fingers down his arm from his bicep to his wrist.

“Living room?” She’d asked him.

He’d pointed to a doorway just a few feet away.

As she walked in she’d spotted the Chinese takeaway on the coffee table and his beer on coaster next to it. She’d picked up a spring roll and his beer before turning around and dropping heavily on to the sofa. She’d just taken a bite of the spring roll when he walked into the room after her. He’d obviously given himself a few seconds to get over the shock. His eyebrows were practically through the roof when he’d spotted her, but an amused expression had appeared on his face just a few seconds later. He sat down next to her, close, but far enough away to give himself some distance.

He hadn’t seemed able to fully comprehend that she was there, in his living room, eating his spring rolls and drinking his beer. He’d been glancing at her repeatedly, couldn’t keep his eyes on the football match that was playing on his TV. He’d taken the beer out of her hand and had taken a mouthful before handing it back to her.

A little while later she’d kicked off her shoes and curled her legs underneath herself. She’d moved in closer to him to rest her head on his shoulder. She’d felt him physically freeze at the action. She’d tilted her head quickly up to him then and offered him her lips. He kissed her gently almost reflexively. She was trying to calm the anxiety she’d felt through his body. She wasn’t here for sex, didn’t want to start something she had no intention of finishing but she couldn’t resist kissing him a few more times. She’d stopped as soon as she’d felt him relax a bit.

“How’s the pain?” He asks her almost guiltily. She knows he’d been avoiding asking her.

“Mm a bit better.” She answers him and she’s not just referring to the neuropathic pain that runs from the nerves in her back down her leg.

She thinks she might be able to keep doing this after all.

 


	5. Ruin 5

“It’s getting late, I should go.” She’d told him suddenly glancing at the clock on his wall.

He’d looked confused then but had nodded at her anyway.

She had slipped her feet back into her shoes and got up. He followed her.

He’d stopped her at the door by grasping her wrist, hesitated for a second, but then quickly kissed her on the lips. She was stunned. This was the first time he’d ever kissed her at the end of a visit. She hadn’t been able to stop the sudden spring of hope she’d felt rise inside her.

The hope hadn’t lasted long though. He still hadn’t shown up at her house and she was starting to give up on him. She’d knew his temporary reprieve from his kids was for one night only, so the option of turning up at his house was no longer available to her. She’d started to feel sexually frustrated a few days later. It had been more than two weeks since he’d last been inside her.

She’d rounded a corner distracted by her own thoughts and had ended up running straight into a surgical trolley. The instruments had clattered to the floor and she’d bashed her knee into one of the trolleys steel poles.

She’d cursed loudly. Looked around hoping to find a nurse nearby who she could yell at for leaving the trolley in the middle of the corridor.

She’d heard his amused voice come from behind her then, startling her away from rubbing her knee, forcing her to turn in his direction.

“What’s got you all worked up?” He’d asked her, eyeing the pile of surgical tools now covering the floor.

She’d eyed him suspiciously and spotted an almost knowing glint in his eyes.

She’d rolled her eyes at him and let out a huff filled with annoyance.

She’d watched him glance around to make sure they were alone in the corridor before moving towards her just a touch.

“I can come over later, but only if you want me too?” He asked her in a whisper, his voice just a bit uncertain.

That had surprised her. She’d nodded quickly, not wanting him to detect even an iota of hesitation on her part. He smiled then and she’s sure that’s the first time she’d really seen him smile since this had all started.

He’d moved into her quickly then and kissed her almost bruisingly on the lips before walking away up the corridor.

Now he was breaking the rules too.

He arrived earlier than he normally had and as soon as she’d opened the door she’d found herself dragging him towards her, a new found urgency seeping it’s way out of her in every touch. She can feel the same urgency seeping out of him as he pushes his hips into her before she’d even managed to close the door.

She was glad he’d ended up in her bed again. She was fully sated for the first time in weeks.

He still leaves after, but he kisses her before he does and she can clearly see the desire to stay in his eyes.

She thinks he might be able to keep doing this after all. 


	6. Ruin 6

_So this is the end I hope you all enjoyed it! Not sure how my slightly dark one-shot turned into a six chapter story. I blame all those who posted a review for more chapters. You know who you are! :)_

 

He’d ended up in her bed every night that week.

Tonight though the obligatory five minutes had already passed and she’d been stroking his chest affectionately and every so often she’d feel him place a soft kiss on her temple. She’d turned her head to look at him and her eyes were once again drawn straight to his lips. She doesn’t resist the pull this time. She moves and kisses him firmly. He instantly kisses her back and she finds herself smiling into his mouth.

That overwhelming desire to ask him to stay is back. She wants to feel what it would be like to wake up next to him. She’s still unsure of what his answer will be. Knows asking him could risk everything they’d repaired over the last week.

“Stay?” She asks him. Closes her eyes, expects the worst.

A few beats pass and he hasn’t answered her. She turns head towards him, opens her eyes and she can see his internal struggle.

“I can’t.” He tells her, his tone soft and filled with anguish.

“Why?” She asks him, she can hear the agony in her own voice. She’d really believed they’d made progress. She can feel the familiar prickle of tears forming in her eyes and she moves to get up, she wants to get away from him.

He holds on to her. Moves over her quickly to pin her between him and the bed.

“If I stay, I’m gonna want more of you.” He sighs looks away from her eyes then continues. “If I stay I’m going to tell you that I love you.” He shakes his head. “If I can’t have that, then I can’t stay.” He explains his voice is slightly cracked but his demand is firm, he isn’t willing to negotiate.

A massive wave of relief hits her immediately, it’s almost a tsunami, but instead of bringing in destruction it’s washing it away. She gasps in a breath, closes her eyes for a few seconds to allow the relief to reach every inch of her and she feels her entire body relax into the bed.

“Stay.” She tells him firmly, and it’s not a question this time. She’s trying to convey a million emotions into a single solitary word.

She smiles at him.

He smiles back.

He is still there when she wakes up in the morning and she’s certain they can keep doing this.

 


End file.
